My father was a very lucky man, because he grew up during the depression. This may seem like an odd statement, but it holds the key to a philosophy that enabled my father to love every bit of what to others would appear to be an ordinary life. Ask yourself what you would want just one more of, if you knew this was the very end of your life; you might be surprised to find that it would likely be something very simple. Most of what follows deals with a wealth of simplicity that very often goes unappreciated, as opposed to being appreciated as the “good things in life.” The HOW TO comes, from identifying what the simple things are and then making the effort to appreciate the moment. Just like exercise redefines our muscles and must be continued to maintain those results, learning to enjoy things that we’re accustomed to taking for granted requires long-term redirection of our thinking to create a lasting change in our perspective.
It helps to have personal experiences from a bleak period in life, to hold up in comparison to things you have right now that you could be enjoying, but are taking for granted. Did you ever suffer the angst of a period of unemployment, but are working now? Your boss may be a nightmare, your work mundane, you wish you made more money. Maybe it’s hard to make ends meet. But: you have a job. If you and your family are warm, dry and not hungry–these are the very things you worried most about when unemployed. You are providing for your family. This may be very basic, but it’s also a fundamentally huge slice of life–even if Robin Leach isn’t ringing your doorbell and asking for a tour. Having a job is not a right–as blasé as you may be about your particular daily grind, it’s something that is earned by skills that you have acquired. And there are about a thousand people right this minute who wish they had the skills to have your job, regardless of what that job is.
Ponder the enormity of being sheltered on a rainy, blustery day when a blast of rain against the windows calls your attention to the weather outside. Appreciate the warmth inside your walls, the warmer tones of lamplight versus the cold, gray winter outdoors. When it snows, appreciate not only the warmth, but take the time to look at the quiet Christmas-card beauty outside, outlining the intricate details of branches and leaves and covering the leaf-strewn, barren winter landscape, making it all look clean and pure. The hypnotic peace of watching it fall. Adding a fire in the fireplace or a candle to brighten a gloomy corner on a dark day can help add to the comfort of feeling cozy and at peace. Add a hot cup of coffee or cocoa. Scatter some baby marshmallows onto the hot liquid and force yourself to wait until they’ve reached that perfect state of “melt” that you love, before you sip. Look at the marshmallows spreading out and becoming gooey–and savor that sip.
The seemingly tired old advice to “stop and smell the roses” is based on such obvious truths–yet we all go on failing to enjoy what’s right in front of us, in the chaotic rush of life as we know it today.
If someone sent you a postcard of a beautiful sunset, you might marvel–for at least a few seconds–at the seemingly supernatural colors the photographer has captured; but how many exotically-colored sunrises and sunsets have we sat through, gridlocked in rush-hour traffic, and allowed to go by unnoticed while we mentally reviewed the report that needs to be finished by 9 am., or counted off items to pick up at the grocery store before we can go home?
An exhausted parent gently declines a child’s request for a second bedtime story in order to clean up the dinner dishes or to gain a much-needed half an hour of peace and quiet after a day’s work. You won’t remember the headline on that day’s newspaper, but years later you might recall the lushness of your child’s long eyelashes fanning out above a rosy cheek as they sleep; how soon will they have grown to a different phase, and no longer physically be the toddler you could remember from today? See the beauty, and snap that mental photo, understanding that while you see it every day, it’s evolving into something else even as you watch.
Do you have a spouse or partner with whom you can share life’s joys and who offers solace when things take a turn for the worse? Are you completely confident in that? How would you ever put a value on that priceless partnership? Or have the two of you become so caught up in the details of job, commutes, and/or kids that your relationship has become more of a business partnership than a couple who spent a long time searching for each other, and who chose each other for a reason? This is the central “simple thing” in your life, but how often do you think of “the state of the union?” If you have children, they will grow and move, at least to some extent, to a more peripheral area of your life. Take stock of the particular things that drew you to your partner. Love, of course; attraction. A sense of humor. Be careful it’s not lost in the shuffle of the daily routine. Compassion? There will be times when you each will need it–and good will between you, and a sense of sharing each other’s burdens as they arise, is golden. Provide mutual support generously, as this is a two-way resource that can keep you from living in the same house yet becoming isolated and lonely individuals, perhaps even resenting each other. Remember that although it’s a two-way street, it’s not a place for keeping score. One may require more support than the other; such is the nature of life. It’s important that this area of life never be viewed as a scorecard. On hot days, share a cold beverage on the porch or deck, if only for 15 minutes after moving the lawn–and enjoy the summery scent of the cut grass, which may bring memories of carefree summer days as a child; on cold days, perhaps on the weekend when there’s not a rush out the door to work, take your morning coffee or tea together. If this is “newspaper” time, point out tidbits of news that would interest the other. Or make a habit of settling down to watch the news together before bed. Tiny traditions.
If you have children, perhaps a relative, friend or trusted babysitter could give you 2 hours right in the middle of an occasional Saturday or Sunday to browse a book store or the DVD-section of your local Best Buy if that suits you better, then share a lingering coffee or an inexpensive lunch. Go for a walk together. If you have common interests such as skiing or boating, make time for them. If you’re both into fitness, work out together. Making time for togetherness doesn’t have to be a “date night” with an expensive dinner. Just a brief investment of time to stay connected.
Has the current runaway rollercoaster of our economy already reached your family? Have you, or someone close to you, lost a job? Lost a home? If it’s you, and you’ve had to move in with friends or relatives–feel blessed, not embarrassed, that you have someone who cares enough about you to share their roof with you. Make life a little easier for them in return by sharing household chores and starting dinner before they get home from work. Particularly if you have children, make sure you draw your family away from your hosts regularly enough to let them have their own space and some privacy (plop everyone down on your bed and watch a family-favorite movie). If you’re handy, you might make a small repair they can’t do themselves; and give yourself credit for this–you can turn a “handout” situation into more of an equal exchange by giving back, until you can get back on your feet.
If you’re on secure financial ground, and have a basement or spare room, can your circumstances be stretched to help out someone close to you through their tough time? Naturally, consideration has to be given to your own total situation–if your spouse or partner would not be comfortable or welcoming, it wouldn’t be much of a favor. Only offer if the offer can be made freely. (Sadly, do not offer to a friend or family member who has a history of living off of family and friends.) But if it is a possibility, few things are as satisfying as giving to someone–especially someone you care about–in need. Who’s to say you may not need help yourself at some point?
The problem of appreciating “the simple things” is not exclusive to those facing financial misfortune. There are plenty of people making good money, and living a lifestyle with all the trappings of affluence . . . having lots of ‘toys,’ yet becoming disillusioned with the satisfaction they anticipated ‘the good life’ would bring. Break the cycle. Make your next “toy”–even if it’s rented–a simple getaway cabin in a picturesque area, within a few hours’ drive of home, where you and your family can retreat for weekends–or longer. At the cabin, keep things simple. You don’t have to go crazy and insist on no TV or video games so your kids view it as punishment. But do engage them in other things–walking on the beach and digging for clams; building a fire for roasting hotdogs or marshmallows (again with the marshmallows!); you will each look back sentimentally on the slightly-scorched product, the one that fell in the flames, the smoky taste of the final product, the day your stick caught fire.
Keep connections alive outside your nuclear family. It’s important to interact with your extended family and your network of friends who sometimes become your family, to stay caught up with each other’s lives and to add to the feeling of larger “base” of people with whom you feel you “belong.” As families much more commonly move away from their parents and hometowns these days to pursue career options, the treasured feeling of “belonging” is often something that can be lost. Don’t wait for Mother’s Day or Thanksgiving–have a spaghetti feed, taco night, or potluck–with dessert.
Which brings up another really basic “simple thing.” Today’s society has become so conscious of keeping fit and cutting calories, that the idea of rejecting a slice of cake or piece of pie has become so ingrained among many of us that we truly are not even tempted when the subject of dessert comes up–we have successfully trained ourselves to view it as forbidden. One of the greatest simple pleasures in life is breaking bread with others. And particularly at family gatherings, you might gain more from giving yourself permission to enjoy what’s on the table than what you’ll gain around the waistline–because there’s a reason the term “comfort food” was invented. For each of us, there are foods that we simply enjoy, or that evoke good memories or traditions. With our lives so busy and regimented, how often do we really get to indulge in them? A life of spartan denial is no better-balanced than a life of overindulgence.
Savor the flavors. A decadent chocolate. A particularly enjoyable bottle of wine?–this may call for you to allow yourself a bit of cheese. The rare, perfect avocado. An obscenely plump, luscious strawberry. A tomatoe that you grew yourself. The seasonal tastes and accompanying memories of holiday foods–the Thanksgiving turkey and its accompaniments, a particular kind of cookie that your mom always made for a particular occasion. Bite into the wonder of a season, a visit to your favorite aunt’s house, something your grandmother always made just for you. (Likewise, continue to avoid the Christmas fudge of which you ate a whole pan when you were 8, the sight of which to this day makes you bolt from the room.)
Are you so stressed from the daily grind that work is all that seems to matter? Can’t seem to leave it at the office and disconnect? Don’t forget the surprisingly simple “mental massage” of music. You wouldn’t think so, but you can forget. It’s amazing how some music in the background can reduce the stress factor of extra hours spent at the computer. It can cut down surrounding conversations and office or home noises that may have made it difficult to focus on the project at hand, or cover the impersonal sterility of office white noise. It can aid in helping you to decompress after a particularly frazzling day. (Focusing on the music will also help to keep an anxious mind from playing reruns of this morning’s staff meeting.) MP3’s have made it possible to have music everywhere, without inflicting your musical taste on everyone else. Make your “play list” only music you really love. If everyone agrees stylistically at home, music in the background there can set a mood that’s mellow or merry or classical and conducive to a good read that won’t distract the kids from their homework. If you’re lucky enough to have a pianist in the house, make a habit of inviting them to play a piece.
I’m observing numbers of young couples AND singles, approaching their 30’s and becoming disillusioned with the clubbing scene, yet not really knowing what to do to replace it as a substitute for weekend entertainment. Consider simple things: signing up for inexpensive dance lessons at a local Elks Club; a small dinner or cocktails (it doesn’t have to be a “party”) with one couple or a few friends or siblings, at your place or theirs. It’s always a boost to have “plans” to look forward to; if you are hosting, even the happy cooperation of the bustle of preparation should be fun; and the satisfaction of providing or receiving hospitality is an affirming reward: you have friends. Going along with this sick-of-clubbing trend is an increasingly popular resurgence: boardgames, trivia games or cards. Silly? How can it this be of no consequence with good friends, good food and spirited fun? In my city, there are a few places where you can go to play boardgames, as a group or singly to join someone else in a game–much as you would play pool in a bar.
Followers of any particular television series may gather in a small group for something as simple as a shared pizza and this week’s episode; Oscar and Emmy Award shows may engender a potluck, cocktails, or egregious over-dressing. Even dinner-and-a-movie feels more like a “night out” with another couple. I’m not just reciting a list of “things to do” that you’ve already though of and are already doing–what I’m getting at is that underlying anticipation of having something to look forward to, and the importance of reflecting from time to time on the value of friendships, old and new; the memories that go with them and that you’re now building together; how much richness they’ve added to your life; how actually very lucky you are to be sitting on the floor on a Tuesday night watching TV with a friend from third-grade, eating cardboard-like home-delivery pizza.
If you own a dog or cat, you probably acknowledge that you love it. But just like with people, how do you really take the time to show it? You’re the center of its universe; do you give it a pat on the head when you get home, take a dog for its obligatory “business” walk–and then pretty much ignore it, assuming it’s delighted to park itself in your company? What if your neighbor knocked on your door right now to tell you that your pet had been found dead, hit by a car? You’d be as stunned as if the news was about a human companion; your grief would be suffocating. The silent lack of its selfless, unquestioningly devoted companionship will be deafening. And somewhere in there would come the thought that if only this horror could be reversed, you would snuggle the pet as you did when you first got it as a kitten or puppy, roll a ball of yarn or throw a ball for it every day, talk to it, go ahead and let it sleep on the bed. Simple things. Do some of them.
Commemorate occasions that are not grand with a snapshot or two; this is the fabric of a good life you’re capturing to remember later. Just another simple thing. Think of the people you have loved or enjoyed in your life–some of them probably now gone. Who can predict when will be the last time you’ll ever see the face of someone who meant a lot? If your house was burning down, your photo albums or box of pictures would very likely be one of the most important inanimate things you would try to preserve. Take a periodic trip down memory lane by looking through these captured memories, sharing them and talking about them. Maybe you “can’t go home again,” but you CAN savor it again for a moment.
Don’t lose sight of your passion just because it’s not what you do for a living. Books, art, sports, wines, horses, working on cars, a handicraft such as pottery, sewing, or woodworking? You may share it with your mate, or you may have different special interests. Make some time for each of you to stay in touch with who you are. It may not be all the time, but often enough to not lose interest. And that much more valuable because don’t get to do it every day.
So–how to enjoy the simple things in life?
Be open to identifying what’s really important and why. Make a continued effort to not only recognize the easily-overlooked but priceless components of your life, but to take the time to fully appreciate each simple thing in its moment, weighing how much more bleak your life would be without it.
I hope that in your old age, you’ll be able, as my father was, to sniff the aroma of my mother’s Sunday pot roast, look around the table where all of our small family was gathered, and say robustly, “it’s good to be rich.” As grateful and fitting a pre-meal “grace” as has ever been said. Real wealth costs about the price of a pot roast.
01.01.09
